Doesn't
by WrinkledPages
Summary: "I - I think I need you." It was no more than a hoarse whisper, an unsure and degrading plea, but George heard it


**A/N: Just a warning, this one-shot is rather depressing. I was in an angsty mood, and this just flew from my fingertips onto the screen, and I thought it was pretty good. In case it's not that clear, Hermione and Fred were together.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own the lyrics, those belong to _Augustana, _and I do not in any way own the _Harry Potter _stories. I so wish I did; Fred would never have died.**

"_It doesn't make the rain fall down,_

_It doesn't make the world go round,_

_It doesn't make the loudest sound,_

_It doesn't mean I'm sorrow-bound._

_It doesn't make the wrong things right,_

_It doesn't keep you warm at night,_

_It doesn't help you learn how it fight,_

_It doesn't show the dark from the light."_

Hermione's footsteps were loud and frantic sounding in the eerie silence of the half-demolished castle. Her blood was rushing through her ears, her heart threatening to break free of her ribs, but still she ran. She ran from the explosions and the curses, from the light and the death. She couldn't look at it anymore - she couldn't hear it anymore - she just needed to see a friendly face and have someone on her side.

The emotions that she had been pushing deeper inside of her welled up to the surface, one by one, until she couldn't hide them anymore. Fear was the most prominent one, tangled together with worry. She was scared, a bone-deep gut-wrenching fear that caused her mind to shut down and her eyes to flicker to every shadow, every corner. Next came anger. Fury coursed through her veins, making her steps falter momentarily before they picked back up again, more desperate than before. Her fists were shaking at her sides, her wand letting off red sparks that made her run faster. She wanted to hunt down every last Death Eater and rip the hair from their heads, claw the skin from their bones. She wanted to see them suffer, she wanted to be the one that made them hurt. Then came loneliness. She had lost Harry and Ron in the crowd of giants, spiders, and Death Eaters, and she was scared for them. She was also scared for herself, all alone in this dark and empty corridor.

Hermione stumbled to a stop, bracing herself against an unfamiliar wall. Tears wouldn't come, but her chest heaved with dry sobs that shook her entire frame. She didn't want to fight anymore, she just wanted to lay down and forget it all.

"_And it doesn't take a sign to see,_

_The best things never come for free._

_And even it's made to be,_

_You know that you can count on me._

_And it doesn't make your plans fall through,_

_It doesn't make your dreams come true,_

_It doesn't make your old ways new,_

_It only means I love you."_

The faint booms that shook the entire castle snapped Hermione from her half-conscious state. Her entire body tensed automatically, taking stock of herself and her surroundings before she remembered where she was. The beaten and bruised girl gripped her wand tighter and struggled to her feet, her face becoming a blank mask as she fought her emotions down again. Harry and Ron needed her. _Fred _needed her.

Hermione murmured so quietly that she herself had trouble hearing it, "_Homenum Revelio,_" and sucked in a shuddering breath when nothing happened. She was alone.

She took off down the hallway in the way she had come, her resolve steeling. She needed to find everyone - the Weasley's, Harry, Hagrid, McGonagall - _everyone - _make sure they were alright, make sure they were still fighting.

A few minutes and many sharp pains in the side later and Hermione could hear voices. She skidded to a halt, pushing her back against the wall, right around the corner she had been about to turn. Her wand was held tightly in her shaking fist, her teeth gritted and her face grim. She knew a simple body-bind would not do for whoever was coming around that corner, and she didn't know if she was prepared to deliver the more sinister curses she had stored away.

As the voices came closer, Hermione's shoulders relaxed unconsciously, and the grip on her wand loosened. Before she was aware of what she was doing, she stumbled around the corner and ran full-pelt towards the two lanky figures, an overwhelming amount of relief bringing tears to her eyes. "Fred! George!"

"Granger?" The twins chorused, looking battle-worn and surprised. Nevertheless, they both wrapped their arms around her, immersing her in their warm and familiar comfort.

"I was so scared," she cried, clinging to both of them, too relieved to be embarrassed. "I thought I was going to have to fight my way through alone. I have no clue where Harry and Ron are and I'm so scared that something's happened to them - where is everyone else? What's going on?" She pushed away slightly, her hands still on the right forearm of George and Fred's left, unwilling to let them go. "Are you both okay?"

George smiled softly at her, "we're fine, Hermione."

"Yeah, you're not alone anymore," Fred added, grabbing her hand from where it rested on his arm.

George did the same, saying, "we won't leave you."

"_And it doesn't make a river flow,_

_It doesn't make your flowers grow,_

_It doesn't make you feel alone,_

_It doesn't tell you where to go._

_And it doesn't make a blind man see,_

_It doesn't make a lost man free,_

_It doesn't fix your broken wings,_

_It means that you were made for me."_

Hermione walked in between Fred and George until the sounds of the battle got louder, and her wand was held so tightly that her entire arm was shaking from the strain. All three teenagers stopped, moving closer towards each other unthinkingly. Fred put an arm around Hermione's waist, hitching a half-hearted grin on his pale face.

"Ready to fight, Granger?" He looked down at her, and Hermione's throat closed up at the hidden emotion swelling behind those blue eyes. If he was afraid, then Hermione knew that she didn't have a chance. She averted her eyes, pushing her thoughts away and focusing on the faces of her friends. She nodded. "Brother O' Mine?" Fred questioned, turning and bringing Hermione with him to face George.

"Wherever you go, I follow," George said confidently, his smile hardly wavering. He started at his twin for a long moment before grabbing Hermione's free hand. "Let's go," he started.

"Kill some Death Eaters," Fred finished, his arm around Hermione tense and unyielding.

Hermione and the twins detangled themselves and threw themselves around the corner back into the battle, wands aloft. Hermione's mind went blank as she threw curse after curse at anyone she laid her eyes on.

"_We're only here, _

_We're only here,_

_We're only here on borrowed time._

_If I took too much for granted,_

_The dark must come before the light."_

Hermione couldn't tell you later on how she knew. She just felt it, like a piece of glass being wedged into her side, and all the air left her in a _whoosh. _Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion, but way too fast at the same time.

The explosion rocked the entire corridor, the wall across from Hermione crumbling and falling painfully slowly, and Hermione was rushing towards it with everything she had. His name was dragged from her throat and out of her mouth in a horrible desperate sound that she didn't even register. All she could thing was, _not Fred. "PROTEGO," _she screeched, her wand aiming at him as he turned towards her, looking surprised. The wall was on top of him less than a second later.

She reached him just after George, and they both fell to their knees, clawing at the rocks and debris to get to him. Both of them were only distantly aware of the other, neither able to register anything other than the desperate pain in their chests and the urgency of their task.

"_Like the years that follow,_

_They leave me hollow,_

_God knows I need you by my side._

_But, we're only here,_

_We're only here,_

_We're only here on borrowed time."_

Hermione couldn't remember anything in the next few weeks that followed. They passed by in a numb haze of silence and solitude, lying on her bed in the Burrow, feeling absolutely nothing but a vast amount of emptiness. The usually optimistic and quick-witted seventeen year old had never felt less like herself then she did in those few weeks following Fred's death. She didn't register Ginny's tearful pleas for her to eat, she didn't notice Harry's soothing touch and guilty voice, she couldn't see past the haze of _nothing _that protected her from the outside world.

Finally, six weeks after the battle, Hermione was forced to awaken from her state of half-awareness. She didn't know what it was, but she felt a churning feeling in her stomach and a restricted feeling in her throat. She got up, her unused joints creaking in protest that she was blind to, feeling suffocated. She couldn't be in that room for another second. She heard his voice in her head, the strong and sure quality both of the Weasley twins had possessed humming through her mind, _"we won't leave you."_

Her legs carried her out of Ginny's room quickly, her hands clutching at the duvet she had been gripping. She didn't notice where she was going until she swung open the door and stepped into the room, feeling the distant bubbling of emotions that meant she couldn't hide from this anymore. She couldn't hide from herself.

"_It doesn't make the wrong things right,_

_It doesn't keep you warm at night,_

_It doesn't help you learn how it fight,_

_It doesn't show the dark from the light."_

Hermione saw George sitting on his bed, looking back at her with the same emptiness she was feeling. She took in his shaggy red hair, his glass-cut cheekbones, his blue eyes. He took in her brown curls, her small delicate frame, her blank expression as she stepped into his room, clutching at the blanket she was holding like a little girl.

They both observed each other, each seeing part of what they had lost in the other.

Hermione was the first to speak. "I - I think I need you." It was no more than a hoarse whisper, an unsure and degrading plea, but George heard it. He heard it, and he felt some of the frostiness surrounding him melt.

Then they were both a tangle of long limbs and tears, clinging to each other and letting the pent up emotion overwhelm them both.

"_And it doesn't make a blind man see,_

_It doesn't make a lost man free,_

_It doesn't fix your broken wings,_

_It only means I love you."_


End file.
